Fly By Night
by taintedidealist
Summary: This is Alternative Universe fan fiction. Mainly because I'm jumping off at the last episode 7x07 "That's Me Trying". How do Arizona and Callie both react after the breakup in the airport and how do they go on with their lives? Separate or Together?
1. Chapter 1: Take Off

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and borrow lots. No, really... lots. Like the characters of Callie Torres, Arizona Robbins, Mark Sloan, Lexie Grey, Miranda Bailey, Teddy Altman, and possibly every other character past or present on Grey's Anatomy which are the sole intellectual property of Shonda Rhimes, Shondaland and ABC. All ideas for this story are from brain wrinkles and influenced by many other TV shows and movies. This is purely for entertainment purposes and sadly, no profit is being gained.

**Ratings:** Overall rating of this story is PG-13ish to R. This story will likely contain adult themes, activity, and language; violence; suspense; and sexual situations or sexually-oriented nudity. But not all at the same time.

**Feedback: **Yes, please. I mean... I'm not that needy. Much. I'll totally love you forever if I know you're reading and even marginally enjoying it. Without feedback, there is no love for you and less enjoyment in writing for me.

**Story Information:** This is Alternative Universe fan fiction. Mainly because I'm jumping off at the last episode 7x07 "That's Me Trying". Spoilers up to the episode anything else is pure conjecture.

**Chapter One: Take Off**

The flight attendant had now checked on her three times within the last twenty minutes; each time she brought with her another package of facial tissues and asked if she needed a sedative to help her sleep. Arizona knew that this was a sure sign that the crew all fully knew about the sobbing mess in first class. She had received the stares from the businessmen who were trying to sleep through the red eye from Seattle to Newark. Then there was the overly concerned elderly woman who kept trying to talk to her and try and get out what she thought was the juicy details of her airline fueled soap opera.

All in all Arizona was more upset with herself for failing to compartmentalize quicker. It was something she had learned as a military brat and as a Colonel's daughter. Weakness should be pushed into a corner and put into a box so you could come back to it later when you were alone, focused, and rational. Logic and reason were the two laws that the Robbins children were raised on, but it was harder to focus on what she had been taught her entire life when she felt like she was getting farther away from her.

"Miss?" the wispy flight attendant bent down and smiled kindly, "Oh, see now you're looking a tad bit better there. It must be the farther we get from Seattle the easier it is to focus on your destination right, miss?"

Seeing her passenger's face deteriorate before her again she covered her mouth, "Oh no, now I went and said something wrong didn't I?"

Grasping at the pile of crinkled tissue Arizona shook her head vehemently back and forth, "No! No, it's me. Me with the lack of focus..." she trailed off for a moment and pointed her finger at her new companion, Arizona squinted at the name tag, "No Melanie! I have a huge heaping pile of focus and vision, but she couldn't even-"

"Couldn't what Miss?" Arizona realized that the attendant had slipped into the seat beside her and was patting her shoulder lightly.

Her watery eyes lifted up to Melanie, "She couldn't even say she was proud of me."

"Who is she dear?"

Both Arizona and the flight attendant turned to their right and took in the tiny old woman who had so recently been doing a good impersonation of an asleep tiny old woman and both let out a short laugh.

* * *

Callie arched her eyebrow as she sunk back into the passenger seat of Mark's car. The crinkle of the leather seats was irritating to her. "Well what?"

He glanced over at her and then back at the traffic as they neared the apartment complex. The turn signal sounded like a time bomb as he decided to let her rip, "So you decided no on the Double Ds right?"

"No, Mark, I did not decide no. I was fully into your crappy metaphor, but she just she just-" leaning into the window she saw the building looming at her and sighed deeply.

He pushed out a breath, "She just called your bluff and left."

"Yep," she looked back at her friend as he barely smiled at her, "look I can't deal with this place can we go to the Archfield or someplace other than here?"

He nodded, but put the car in park and grabbed Callie's hand, "Look at me."

She rolled her eyes heavily and turned her head towards Mark. He pulled her hand up to his chin, "She did not leave you okay? You have to try and break through that thought." He lightly kissed her knuckles and patted her hand, "You and I we tend to leap big Torres and sometimes it's without thinking."

Roughly pulling her hand out of Mark's grasp her pointer finger flew up and waggled in the air, "Did you just spin blame away from her? Because she left me Mark, she left me in the parking lot of airplanes!"

Mark quietly corrected her, "Terminal."

She cleared her throat, "Parking lot of airplanes, Mark! And she walked away because that stupid grant is more important to her than me."

He leaned back into his seat and nodded with her, "You're right. I'm up for hating her tonight if you are. Oh!" A smirk edged its way up his face, "Then we could pick up ladies together and lament our poor moral fiber the next morning after we kick them out of our hotel room."

His answer was three short jabs to his ribs as he laughed, "Rooms! Rooms! Separate rooms!"

* * *

"Just one more," she pleaded lightly as her finger jutted up and then another joined it, "make that two, two more."

Her eyes bugged out for a second and she giggled, "I sound like the Count on Sesame Street!" Arizona looked down at the tray in front of her and moved the small bottles around while she hummed a song lightly, She grasped the neck of the miniature plastic Jack Daniels with her left hand and hopped it around as if it was walking, "One! One little bottle of whiskey, eh, eh, eh!" She then tried for the next bottle twice before grabbing it around the middle with her right hand and waddled it back and forth, "Two! Two little bottles of whiskey! Eh, eh..."

Melanie dipped back down into her eye line, "Arizona, it looks like we're going to have to stop serving as we're nearing Newark now, but I'm sure you'll be able to get something in the terminal or on the connecting flight."

Pouting her lips out for a moment Arizona slumped into her seat, "I guess that's okay then," her eyebrows lifted trying to impersonate a more sober version of herself, "although later I was planning on doing a rendition of Near and Far in my Grover voice."

Seeing the signs before her passenger even knew it was coming Melanie offered a hot towel to Arizona as the airplane had gone through a lot of the tissue supply for the flight patrons just on this one distraught passenger. She rubbed her new friend's back as she murmured to her, "Yeah, I know."

A hiccup erupted from behind the towel as she swore she could hear a grumble of, "Far."

* * *

"It's not far, you're just thinking that because it's..." Mark squinted his eyes tightly and stumbled towards the door, "It's in the complete opposite direction."

A sharp snort erupted from him as he tightened his arm around Callie's waist. He felt her head plop onto his shoulder as she whined softly, "I'll just sleep here." He felt her start to dip as Callie's knees buckled and Mark laughed as he fell to the ground with her. Twisting he took most of the hit on the floor as Callie landed on his chest and yawned loudly. Mark glanced down his nose and saw her start to tuck a hand underneath her cheek.

"Callie." His chest reverberated and Callie winced as it was Mark Sloan in surround sound.

"No! I'm sleeping." She swatted lightly at his face before he grabbed her hand.

Lacing his fingers through hers he whispered to her, his voice hitting a gravely bottom, "Not on the floor of a hotel Torres, you're a better drunk than that, let's get you to bed." He started to sit up slowly, taking his friend with him. "I need you to help me, okay?"

Callie nodded and sighed as they both struggled to their feet looking like a baby fawn taking its first steps. Mark took her left arm, pulling it across his shoulders he started to latch her hand onto his neck. Meanwhile his right arm grabbed at her waist trying to anchor the two together for the sole purpose of getting Callie to her hotel room. "Okay, now let's make a goal of getting to the other end of the hallway where you have a queen bed full of feathers waiting for you."

"Okay."

He was worried, normally the shorter his friend's responses were the closer to a full slip into dead-to-the-world sleep she was; and even though Mark was less drunk than his friend he knew he wouldn't be able to carry her the 500 feet they had to go for the finish line. "Tell me a story Callie, what's your bedtime story."

A wrinkled brow was his answer for a moment until a wide smile spread over her face and they stumbled along down the hallway, "I've got a story, but it always seems to be where you make the wrong choice."

He could work with this, "What do you mean?"

As each doorway passed he was thankful that they were closer than they had been a step before. Her speech was slurred, but if he paid closer attention he could make out enough to piece together what she meant, because if there is anything your best friend can do it is make out what you mean to say.

"Like those choose your own adventure books! I was so bad at them. Always died." Her arm shot out quickly, "Trap! Time Traveling Gnome! Spider! Abominable Snowman!" Her hand flew back and forth with each of her untimely young adult novel demises.

Mark tugged on her hip righting her wobbling for a moment as they approached the halfway mark. "You don't always make the wrong choice."

She was out of his grasp weaving in front of him with an accusatory finger pointed at him for what he was sure had reached, for the evening, double digits. "This is a story Mark, this is not me."

"Ah," he nodded and his chin jutted out lightly, "Of course, my bad, so this story makes wrong choices."

Taking sloppy steps backwards Callie nodded as she bounced off the hallway. Rushing forward Mark caught up with her and took a deep breath, righting Callie again as they began the march towards her room.

"Exactly, but they don't know they're going down the wrong path until whammo-blammo dead end!"

Mark nodded sympathetically at her, "I get that. It's a good story," he pointed at the door and pulled out a plastic key, "but here we are at bedtime."

Sliding the key in he saw a red light blink and Callie ripped it out of his hand and stated, "You're not doing it right." He opened his mouth, but slammed it shut as the green light flashed and a click indicated that he had been doing it wrong.

"Okay, I'm going home." He placed a quick kiss on her forehead and drew her in for a tight hug, "You can manage getting into bed right?" Looking down he saw a well of tears threatening to be unleashed from her eyes and understood, "Actually I'm tired; they have pull out couches here right?"

She nodded and struggled to smile, "Yeah."

"Right," shucking off his black leather coat Mark held the door open, "Get to bed."

* * *

He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses as he looked at the clock's read-out from the kitchen and winced at the early hour, "What do you mean you're going to bed in the Newark airport, Hun?" Daniel Robbins shuffled across the linoleum tile. He pulled the sliding glass door open and stepped outside to the crisp autumn air and saw the sun edging over the horizon.

"I can't get on the connecting flight." his daughter's voice sounded like it had when she was scared.

He paused before pressing on, "Can't or won't Arizona?"

Her gaze followed the few people in the terminal. Some were slowly moving to baggage claim or walking briskly with garment bags in hand to another gate for a connecting flight. She glanced behind her at the second flight of three she had on her agenda for the travel day. "Can't."

It was the four letter word he most hated to hear, "You know that word is not a word in the Robbins family language right Marine?"

She chuckled, "Yeah, I know Dad, but going doesn't feel right and going back doesn't either."

He ran his hand along the wooden railing of the back porch. The soft tinkling of metal tags let him know that the family dog was approaching, excited to have a playmate so early in the day. "Well Arizona..." he trailed off letting his daughter finish.

"Get up and get moving. Never retreat in fear and always press forward in courage." She wiped a tear from her eye and nodded, "It's never been this hard."

Lightly petting the golden retriever at his side he laughed, "It never is and if it is right like you know it to be then you'll find a way to make it work."

"Dad?" Arizona sucked in a breath, "What do I do about her luggage?"

He could picture her in an instant and looked back at the sunrise breaking out across the ground trying to warm up the world inch by inch. He rolled his shoulders back and nodded, "Well your Mother and I had talked about coming to visit you in Africa later, how about we just make it sooner and we'll help with getting you settled."

The eye roll could be heard through the circuits in his daughter's cell phone to his own corded down rotary monstrosity as his son had lovingly referred to his vintage phone. "I can hear that all the way here in Quantico." He was rewarded with soft laughter. "So, that settles it right?"

She nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks, "Forward in courage it is Sir."

"Arizona, it is your decision."

Raising up from her seat she nodded, "I've come this far. I have to see it through." Pulling out the end of her luggage handle it clicked loudly as she saw a gate workers opening the door to the boarding ramp. "You always were a good leader."

It was the familiar rote conversation they were slipping into now, "You never needed a leader, but we make a great team together."

The muffled voice came over the loudspeaker and she looked at the small group of passengers starting to congregate around the ticket agent, "I love you Dad, give Mom my best."

Daniel paused as he wasn't able to end the phone call with his daughter as he was now used to doing, "I love you too Arizona..."

Pressing the end button Arizona slipped the cell back into her jeans pocket and closed her eyes for a brief moment before rolling her shoulders back and stepping forward towards tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2: Layovers

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and borrow lots. No, really... lots. Like the characters of Callie Torres, Arizona Robbins, Mark Sloan, Lexie Grey, Miranda Bailey, Teddy Altman, and possibly every other character past or present on Grey's Anatomy which are the sole intellectual property of Shonda Rhimes, Shondaland and ABC. All ideas for this story are from brain wrinkles and influenced by many other TV shows and movies. This is purely for entertainment purposes and sadly, no profit is being gained.

**Ratings:** Overall rating of this story is PG-13ish to R. This story will likely contain adult themes, activity, and language; violence; suspense; and sexual situations or sexually-oriented nudity. But not all at the same time, perhaps not at all depending if this continues or not.

**Feedback:** Yes, please. I mean... I'm not that needy. Much. I'll totally love you forever if I know you're reading and even marginally enjoying it. Without feedback, there is no love for you and less enjoyment in writing for me.

**Story Information:** This is Alternative Universe fan fiction. Mainly because I'm jumping off at the last episode 7x07 "That's Me Trying". How do Arizona and Callie both react after the breakup in the airport and how do they go on with their lives? Separate or Together? Spoilers up to the episode anything else is pure conjecture.

**Chapter Two: Layovers**

The hustle and bustle of the passengers at Roissy Airport this evening was in direct contrast to the near empty crawl of Newark during the early morning hours. Arizona sighed heavily as she rolled to the ticket counter. Her hand clutched her connecting flight information hoping that they would be able to help her out of the potentially disastrous days she had before her.

Pushing herself up on her tiptoes she craned her neck over the counter hoping to find a free ticket agent. The whirring sound of the conveyor belt was a pleasant bit of white noise to help calm her erratic heartbeat. Arizona's loose curls flopped into her face as she leaned farther over the counter. She pushed her hair behind her ear, out of her eye line, and smiled with relief as a ticket agent hustled over to the kiosk.

The wiry man waved his hands in front of himself quickly, "Pardon, s'il vous plaît mademoiselle ne vous penchez pas sur le comptoir!"

Arizona grimaced and shook her head from side to side, "Je parle francais un petit peu. Encore une fois en anglais s'il vous plaît?"

She watched as the shoulders before her softly lowered and he chuckled. Slowly running his thumb and forefinger along his trim goatee he answered, "Welcome to Paris, mademoiselle, how can I help you this evening?"

Her eyes glanced at his name badge and she leaned in slowly, glancing over her shoulder a couple of times, which caused the ticket agent to raise his eyebrows and lean toward her as well. "Henri, I really need to change my ticket connecting to Lilongwe, Malawi."

He grinned, "Ah, may I?"

Offering her confirmation print out to Henri she waited as he clucked his tongue sharply. "Is there a problem?"

He looked back at her and squinted for a moment before producing slim rectangular glasses. "Perhaps, it all depends on if you want to lengthen your layover or shorten it." Slipping the frames on he started clicking away on the terminal in front of him before looking back at her with a questioning look.

"Oh," Arizona continued, "I want to shorten it. Get to Lilongwe as soon as possible, tonight if at all-"

"Why?" He cut her off and then dropped his mouth open sensing he overstepped a boundary, "You were only staying for the weekend and a weekend in The City of Lights is barely enough to appreciate it."

"My traveling companion... well, she's not here." Arizona said sadly.

Quickly averting his gaze Henri tapped somewhat frantically on the computer and let out variations on a theme of over exaggerated sighing. Arizona thought that some of her teenage patients could take a lesson on the dramatics in breathing from the Frenchman who was trying to rescue her.

The grimace she was seeing cross his face indicated that she would not find a savior at Air France today. "Henri?" she asked softly, "that face is not the face I want to see."

His hand swiftly removed his glasses and folded them to slip back into his shirt pocket, "Your baggage is already in storage for the flight and the booking is not favorable, you could fly standby, but already leaving the terminal area you cannot enter without a ticket..."

Arizona picked up where he had trailed off, "which you can't give me until I am assured a ticket." The energy drained out of her as she was resigned to her fate, "Okay, then it looks like I'm on my way to Le Royal Monceau." She pushed off the counter and smiled kindly towards the young ticket agent.

"Bonne journee, mademoiselle Robbins." He motioned to his right towards the outside transportation.

She walked away from what she had hoped would not be a two-day reminder of how she was in Paris without Callie. Instead, she was welcoming forty-eight hours in a city that was supposed to be spent with someone you loved.

At least they had good wine and cheese.

* * *

Her thumb quickly rolled down the trackball as she read through the email update on the flight from Newark. It had landed thirty minutes ago. She noted there had not been a change in the itinerary so that meant that Arizona was on her way through the Parisian night seeing the lights along the Seine; without her.

"I hate this," Callie gruffly said as she tossed the covers over her head.

The white sheets were ripped off of her as Mark stood above her with two cups of coffee in his hands, "I had no idea," he pushed roughly on her hip with his foot; effectively scooting her perilously close to the edge of the bed. "What with your, what can only be called, massive emo fest since you cracked an eye open."

Callie laughed against her will as she clutched at the fitted sheet so she wouldn't topple onto the floor, but grabbed one of her tormentor's calves as well for good measure. "Mark, shut up. I was supportive of you!"

He scoffed and raised the cups to his chest as if they were a shield, "How is me getting you fresh coffee from your favorite cafe not supporting your-"

She watched as his bottom lip jutted out, followed by the slight crinkle of his nose, "You smell like bar Torres."

Taking a long tug on the coffee he started to lean down and offer the other cup to her before jerking it back to his chest, "Shower. It was a deal. You must de-bar yourself for the coffee goodness." He smacked his lips together as a bit of foam kept refuge in his facial hair.

"But-"

"AH!" he yelled loudly, which caused Callie to wince slightly.

Mark's lanky frame walked roughly across the mattress dragging his friend with him before hopping to the floor. He peeked over his shoulder to see Callie slide off the side of the bed like a liquefied version of herself.

She smacked him with a pillow as she walked towards the bathroom, "I hate you."

"Hey," he lightly scolded, "Watch the coffee." His face broke out into a wide grin as he ruffled her already messy hair, "And I love you too Torres."

The bathroom door started to close and she barely heard Mark beckon her back out to the bedroom, "What did you say Mark?"

"She does not define you Callie, you define you."

She smiled weakly at him and nodded before retreating to the shower where she hoped to reclaim the bit of self that Mark seemed sure was still around.

* * *

Tucking the white, fluffy, and over-sized towel around her Arizona watched the water slowly drain out of the porcelain tub. This was a luxury that she knew wouldn't come, but possibly once a week, after she was in Malawi. Singing softly to herself she could hear her voice amplified by bathroom acoustics; if she closed her eyes it felt like there was more than her soft mezzo soprano meandering through mist.

Her hand ran along the edge of the bathtub and raised it slowly as it fluttered through the air to the vanity. She leaned close to the fogged over mirror and let out a quick puff of air creating a form, like a firework, bursting out from the center, she stood watching as the condensation dripped down creating a small rivulet, which looked like a tear track.

She felt exhausted, but if Arizona was honest with herself she was more scared of going to the puffy, feather-filled, inviting bed-of-doom. What that bed meant and that she really was here in a suite in France without someone to curl into and wrap her arms around.

The entire first leg of the trip felt like she was in mourning, but in a surreal way, like a dream you know is a dream, but you can't make yourself wake up.

Arizona chuckled at herself. She spent everyday with children and would help them rationalize away nightmares, bogeymen, and shadows. It is through that very logical reasoning that she understood that by going to sleep alone and waking up alone the dream would end and become reality.

It was that exact thing that frightened her tonight.

A chill rose up her back and she shook her head looking into the mirror again; seeing that it had cleared so she could see herself again. Stepping forward Arizona rose her hand to the tear tracks on the mirror to realize they were on her face instead.

* * *

"This coffee is just what I needed." Callie tossed her hair back and forth flipping droplets of water onto Mark who groaned in displeasure.

A velvety laugh bounced around the hotel walls as she looked at her friend now be speckled with splatters of water running over his white shirt. "Payback," she stated calmly.

"I'm giving you today," he flicked his wrist looking at his watch, "and by today I mean let's grab a late lunch before I have to get to my shift."

He was rewarded with a slow whine before Callie stomped her feet. She crossed her arms in front of herself and pouted.

Bending over Mark plucked her leather jacket up off the floor and tossed it at her. It smacked right onto her chest and then plummeted back to the ground. Rolling his eyes slightly he threw up his hands, "I'm sorry, okay. I have two surgeries scheduled and then I'm running skills lab for the kids."

"Don't call them kids Mark."

He lightly hit his head with he palm of his hand and Callie watched as her friend snapped his fingers and pointed to her again, "Munchkins?"

"Mark..." she warned.

"Babies" he blurted and winced immediately. Carefully watching Callie's face he did not see it crumple into the dreaded crying-jag face.

She shrugged on her jacket, "You owe me a nice lunch for putting up with you."

Sensing he had dodged a bullet Mark clapped his hands together loudly. He wrapped an arm around Callie's shoulders, "Alright, that's what I like to hear."

* * *

The chill of the morning caused Arizona to wrap the robe tighter around herself as she sat on the veranda watching the passing crowd below shrink into their coats or fluff a scarf up around their faces. Steam from her coffee floated up to her own face warming her cheeks, even as her nose started to tingle from the cold air. A slow creak on the floor of the porch caused her to look behind her thinking she would find someone there for a moment. Shaking her head lightly at her foolishness and taking a couple of deep breaths to calm down her thudding heartbeat she focused back on the horizon.

She hadn't slept well. Actually, Arizona was a little disappointed in herself, as a doctor sleeping came as second nature when you were allowed time to lay down sleep came in a near instant. Instead last night, sleep came after an hour and some.

A gust of wind swept up the side of the building causing the skirt of her robe to billow around her legs. The weather seemed to remind her that she needed to look back at the warm tableau of sherbet tickling at the edges of the scenery. Yellow, orange, and flickers of red crept closer to the hotel; coming with the sunrise was the story of another day.

Arizona pulled her knees into her chest and rested her cup on the impromptu table. While the temperature was slowly rising, her body heat was seeping out through her skin faster than she could supplement it with bourbon laced coffee and the thick terry cloth robe.

She scooted slowly off of the chair and looked back down at the increasing traffic weaving in and out like a well orchestrated dance routine, but she was not sure of a step of choreography in Paris. Unfurling the neck of the robe around her more she retreated to the warmth and safety of the hotel room to plan her descent into the streets.

* * *

Pushing the door open to the bar Callie grinned as she saw absolutely no one that she recognized. Here she wouldn't receive pitying looks and requests to retell a story she didn't want to tell. Her eyes took in the decor of hodge-podged together pieces of the bar's own history with little pieces of homegrown art nailed into the walls as if on a whim.

A scruffy guitarist was strumming a Fender lightly in the end throes of sound check. She nodded, happy to see that there would be noise coming to hopefully drown out any chance of small talk from anyone other than the barkeep.

Her knuckles rapped lightly on the bar to get the attention of the maybe twenty-something bartender. She watched as the towel flipped over her shoulder and she smiled leaning into the bar, "How can I help wreck you tonight?"

Callie scanned the woman lightly.

She was wearing dark jeans with a bright red belt, a baseball three-quarter length t-shirt was tucked in haphazardly. Her chestnut hair was barely held back by a stringy headband that she pushed on before twirling a slim bottle opener around her forefinger. She smirked at the woman in front of her, "I can beer you, cocktail you, liquor you, or leave you."

Flustered, as though she was caught looking too long, Callie laughed, "Sorry, long day, which I'm sure you hear all the time. I'll have a Jack and Coke."

"Awesome." The bartender winked at her before flipping a hi-ball glass in her hand. The musical chime of ice was added and before Callie knew it the drink was placed in front of her with cherries skewed on a sword. "My name is Caitlin, yell it when you need to fill it."

Callie laughed, but sobered when an eyebrow was raised at her. She cleared her throat, "It's just the sayings... they-"

"Are pedestrian I know, but they make people laugh," she flipped the towel off her shoulder, "Which most people need in a bar." Caitlin turned towards the bellow of 'It' at the other end of the bar, "Off I go; people in need."

* * *

'A sucker was born every minute' as Arizona had been told by her father every time she tossed a dollar at corner musicians or anyone with a cardboard sign. Nodding at the saxophone player as he wiggled his fingers quickly creating a glissando as she stepped away from his case after depositing some money.

She pulled her fleece hat further down on her ears. A muffled buzz sounded from her coat pocket reverberated through the air and she struggled to pull off her mittens to dig through the various items she had carefully thought out to bring on the walk along the footpaths by the Eiffel Tower. Fishing through her card key, coin purse, pens, and a small notepad, she finally latched onto her phone. She pulled it out a little too quickly and it landed ceremoniously on the grass.

Cursing lightly at herself she crouched down, brushing off the condensation and bits of grass stuck to the phone. The light was flashing for a missed phone call. Swallowing deeply Arizona pressed the shortcut for her voice mail, punched in her pass code and waited.

"Arizona, it's your father. I'm going to fly out military standby tomorrow and it looks like I'll be landing in Djibouti when you're going to be taking off out of Paris. Your mother seems to think that she is done with military flying after the trip to Hawaii." She had to smile as his voice softened to a whisper, "But she wasn't complaining about the money that saved. Anyways, I'll be hopping over to meet you in Malawi right after, pays to have connections." There was a crackle on the phone and she thought he had finished before hearing a loud cough, "I love you Arizona."

Hitting the end button on her phone she tucked it back into her pocket. She was disappointed, but also thankful that it hadn't been Callie. Hearing her voice so soon might have broken her resolve with the beauty of Champ de Mars around her almost egging her on to a grand gesture. Her hand wrapped around the small plastic phone again almost tugging it out to place a call before she laughed bitterly, remembering a piece of history from high school French class.

Champ de Mars was named not for Venus, the goddess of love, but in tribute to Mars, the Roman God of war.

* * *

The irony was not lost on her.

Callie lifted her glass as the second hand ticked closer to midnight. Scuttling over beside her the bartender lifted a bottle of beer, "No toasting without company, it's a bar rule."

A curt nod towards her and Callie raised her glass higher, "Happy Birthday, Arizona."


End file.
